


Twas the Day After Christmas

by WakeUpDreaming



Series: Holla to the Holidays: December 2015 Collection [14]
Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Banter, Christmas fic, Coffee, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Toby is besotted, holiday fluff, post 2x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow up to All I Want For Christmas Is You, Toby wakes up in Happy's bed for the second morning in a row. And she's snoring. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twas the Day After Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by about a thousand different things - tumblr posts, "hamster hands", a need for fluff after my last fic.

He wakes up in her bed for the second time in a row. She’s curled into his side, fingertips just brushing his skin. Happy’s hair is fanned across his extra pillow.

She’s also snoring like a chain saw.

Toby fights back the urge to laugh as he looks at her. “Hap, you’re snoring.”

No response.

“Happy, seriously, you’re really loud.”

She just snores louder.

Toby sighs and drops back against the pillow. He’s not going anywhere with Happy’s head pillowed on his arm, so he starts mentally quizzing himself on treatments for different mental disorders until Happy shifts. She makes a little noise, closer to a squeak than to anything like English.

“Are you awake yet?” he asks. “Because you keep snoring.”

She looks up at him. “I don’t snore,” she mumbles.

He snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says incredulously. “And I’m not a gambling addict.”

“I don’t!” Happy exclaims. “I’d wake myself up.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” Toby says. He turns to his side when Happy moves her head from his arm. “You woke me up.”

“You woke yourself up,” Happy says. “With your kicking. Why do you kick so much?”

“Why do you snore?”

Happy glares at him. “I don’t snore!” she says firmly. And then, suddenly, her expression changes. “Do I snore?”

He nods. “So loud,” he adds.

“Okay, then,” she says. "This is you.” She kicks her legs like she’s running, hitting him right in the shins.

“Ow!” Toby exclaims, trying to get out of the way. “What the hell?”

“That’s you,” Happy says pointedly, “for two nights in a row now.”

“Oh, come on,” says Toby, rolling his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad,” Happy says, throwing the sheets off and pointing to her shin. “There’s a – wait.”

“Are you pointing to an invisible kick mark?” Toby asks, looking.

She sighs. “It was a little red mark," she says definitively. "It was there when I woke up in the middle of the night when you landed a kick to my shin.”

“Or you dreamed it,” Toby says, letting out a half grin.

“If I dreamed the kicking, you dreamed the snoring.”

“I did not!” Toby argues.

“Fine,” says Happy. “Then I snore and you kick and neither of us are going to sleep again.”

Toby blinks and just sort of stares at her. “What?”

“What?” says Happy, obviously not hearing herself. “We’re never sleeping again.”

“That’s presumptuous,” Toby says, making sure to smile. “Ever again?”

Happy looks at him for a moment and then her words sink in. “Yeah, well, you kicked me and I need coffee.”

She throws on his shirt – it looks like she's always going to be wearing his shirts and it’s going to kill him – and walks into her kitchen. He’s freezing when he gets up, throwing on his jeans because she stole his shirt, and follows her to the kitchen where she’s pressing about sixty button combinations on the Keurig.

“What are you doing?” he asks without thinking. “You’re going to break it if you punch that many buttons." She gives him that look that sends him stepping back. "Okay," he says. "Don't criticize your technology."

“I reprogrammed it,” she says. “Added some other options.” She presses one last button and the coffee starts to fill her dark blue mug. "Wasn't hard."

“Why do I find it so attractive when you talk about engineering?” Toby asks.

“Because you’re weird,” Happy replies, handing him a cup of coffee. “Black, right?”

He nods, sipping. “No cinnamon, thank god,” he says, unable to keep from moaning a little.

Happy raises an eyebrow as she sips her coffee. “That good, huh?” she asks. There’s no missing the innuendo in her voice.

Toby sets his coffee down and takes her mug, leaning in to kiss her. She pushes his face away.

“Excuse me, coffee time,” she says, taking her mug back from him.

"You didn't need coffee before kissing me yesterday," Toby says from underneath her hands.

"Yeah, well," she says, tapping her fingertips on his forehead, "must have been a Christmas miracle."

“I know I should be offended,” he says, “but your hands are just so tiny.”

“What is with you and my hands?” she asks, looking befuddled.

“They’re tiny!” Toby says, taking her hand off of his face and waving it at her. “Look!”

“I’m pretty familiar with my hand, Doc,” she says, deadpan. “There’s an expression about it and everything.”

He drops her hand. “Hamster hands,” he says as he goes back for his coffee.She's smiling at him in a hesitant kind of way, like she's hasn't quite figured it out but plans on it.

Good. About time she got mixed up about him.

They drink their coffee in a comfortable silence, and when she’s halfway done Happy says. “Okay. You can kiss me now.”

“Not sure I want to anymore,” Toby says airily. “You chose coffee over me.”

“It’s eight in the morning,” she says. “I choose coffee over everything.” She steps toward him until he’s pressed against the kitchen sink and she’s standing in the v of his legs.

“Are you trying to make me kiss you?” Toby asks. “Because it’s going to work.” He leans down, and her lips taste like black coffee with a tiny bit of sugar, bittersweet. She sets her coffee down on the table and settles her hands on either side of him on the counter. He wraps his hands around her waist and loses track of time in the kiss until Happy pulls away.

“We should probably go to work,” she says quietly.

“Yup,” Toby says, kissing her cheeks, chin, forehead.

“What are you doing?” she laughs.

“I just like you,” Toby replies. “Is that allowed?”

She just looks at him for a moment. “I guess,” she says, “I mean, now that we’re officially dating or whatever.”

“Dating or whatever?” he says. “That’s pretty casual for someone who asked for a kiss for Christmas thirty six hours ago.”

Happy rolls her eyes, unable to hide a little smile. “You know what I mean.” She makes her way across the apartment. “I’m taking a shower before we head to the garage,” she says. “You?”

Toby shrugs. “Well, I’m not too sure,” he says, following her. “I mean, we’ve only been dating or whatever for a day. Showering together is pretty –”

Happy closes the bathroom door in his face, and Toby’s quiet for a minute. Then he sings, “Hello from the outside!”

Happy pulls the door open. “If I let you in will you stop singing?”

He grins. “That may have been the plan.”

She grabs him by the arm and tugs him right into her arms, and they stumble backward into the bathroom.

They take so long the hot water fades to being just barely warm, and they leave the shower to find about a half dozen messages on each of their phones.

“Paige, Walter, Sly, Paige, Paige, Walter, Cabe,” Toby says. He wiggles his phone at Happy. “Methinks we’ve got a case.”

“Methinks you should put some clothes on,” Happy says, tossing him his shirt.

He catches it and pulls it on over his head. “You think they’re going to realize that this is the second morning in a row we’re coming into work together?” He checks his watch. “Really late?”

Happy shrugs as she pulls her shirt on. Toby tries not to stare at her. He fails. “Probably not,” she says. “You think they’re really that perceptive?”

“We’ll say your Christmas present to me was driving me to work,” Toby says, shooting her a grin. “When are we going to tell people?”

Happy does a little hop when she pulls her skinny jeans on, and Toby can’t be more charmed. “When it comes up,” she says. “Probably not during a job, I mean.”

“Deal,” Toby says. “But I should probably grab clothes from my house on our way to work.” He looks down at his shirt. “You got your coffee on my shirt.”

“You got my coffee on it,” Happy corrects, "when you tried to kiss me before coffee."

Toby would argue, but she’s grabbing his hand and yanking him toward the door.

He changes in two minutes when Happy stops at his house, because she said she’d leave without him if he took more than five, but he sacrifices a couple of seconds to grab a bow from his desk. He spares half a glance at the Christmas gift he's never going to send to his mother, but leaves it.

He sticks the bow on his head and runs out the door.

“What the hell is on your head?” Happy asks, putting her helmet back on.

“I’m all you wanted for Christmas, right?” he asks. “So, I put a bow on it.”

Happy just turns away from him and puts the bike in gear.

When they finally get to the garage, it’s nearly 10 o’ clock. The bow is crushed from the helmet but Toby's not taking it off. At least he thinks he's funny.

“Where were you guys?” Paige asks. “You’re two hours late.”

“Oh, uh,” Happy says, running her hand through her hair, “I was doing stuff.”

Paige looks between them, then turns back to Walter at his computer.

“Does that make me stuff?” Toby asks, whispering in her ear.

He’s pretty proud of himself when she laughs.


End file.
